How I Hate the Number 24
by Kabuto-pants
Summary: Haku is dead, Zabuza tells the story. AU, ZabuHaku, fluffy. Really angsty.


**A/N:** Have you ever felt that you've cried so hard your eyes feel like they've been gauged out by a plastic spoon? My eyes do. Have you ever cried for someone you never thought you'd cry for? I just did. Just moments ago, my sister's cat, Smokey, was put to sleep. His bladder was extremely swollen, the size of my fist (six inches in diameter, which is way beyond the average size of a fully grown male felines' bladder). This only inspired me to write. I hope you like the child of my misery.

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I never thought it would be this hard. To say good-bye to him, of all people. Here I sit, looking down at the casket seemingly miles away from me. My eyes never leave the beautiful boy inside, tracing every curve and dip of his face, the sunken cheeks and deathly pale skin. His brown eyes would remain closed forever now.

I had used him as a tool in my business, having picked him up off the streets at such a young age. I remember the cold December night, Christmas Eve if I remember correctly. I was returning home after long hours at the office, making a quick stop at a liquor store that was open 24-hours. Haku stood across the street, leaning against a building, watching the cars pass by at high speeds. I paid him no mind until I exited the shop, twenty-four pack in one hand, brandy in the other.

Getting into my car, I finally noticed how skinny the little boy was, wearing clothes much to small for him, but they fit almost perfectly. The bears on his shirt traced every rib, highlighting them. I started up the car, swearing to ignore the sight, but my conscience ate away at my mind. I gave up seconds later, getting out of the warm vechile. I crossed the street and approached the boy. "What's your name?"

"...Ha-haku," a wheeze and cough followed. His voice was small and light.

"It's nice to meet you, Haku. I'm Zabuza," I stayed silent for a moment, watching the boy shift uncomfortably under my gaze. "May I ask why your out here on your own?"

"Auntie threw me out of her car." Another wheeze.

"Why did she do that?"

"She didn't want to take care of me after mama and papa died."

After that, I offered to take care of him. Haku easily accepted and followed me everywhere from that day forward. Okay, maybe not everywhere, but you get my point.

Now would be a good time to tell you what my business is. I am the head of an underground bodyguarding ring. We have other services as well, but I mainly guarded those who paided well. In a sense, we could be called an extension of the mob. Haku became my assistent, and was excellent at his job, but it wasn't like I ever told him that. Years after joining me, he became a guard himself, if only hired once in a blue moon. The boy was short, thin, and resembled a young teenage girl by the time of his death.

A week ago, I had been hired to protect a heir to a large corporation, along with Haku. It had been a hoax though. This job was a trap to kill me, not beautiful Haku. In the end, Haku had taken a bullet for me, knowing a sniper sat high above us. The shot rang through the air, slowing down time. The boy didn't die instantly like he should have. He smiled up at me, a smile I have never seen before on his face.

I dropped down beside him, craddling his head in my lap. "Za...Zabuza-san, I have to tell you..."

"You'll have plenty of time to tell me."

"No...I won't. Listen now, I be-beg of y-you. I l-love you. I just wanted to-to say that be-before I left. I-I'll be waiting fo-for you." And just like that, he was gone. He left no room for argument, like he had before. In the end though, I was glad he was gone. His beauty and purity was unearthly, and now maybe he was going to Heaven, where he belonged.

The possibility of seeing the young man again didn't stop me from hunting down the sniper and killing him myself.

So now, all his friends, past clients, and the family that had ever knowen about him marched into the cemetary. I carry the casket along with three others. I can see the gravesite from here, where Haku will rest forever. Craved into the head stone, a death date sits with a name, birth date being December Twenty-fourth. The death date is the same, December Twenty-fourth.

I set the casket on the ropes above the six feet deep hole, and watch as he is lowered into the ground. I am the first to throw dirt into the hole, not bothering to stay to mingle, or go to the awake. For I have plans of my own that need to be forfilled.

Now I sit on the balconey of a random hotel room, knosse tied around my neck, a bottle of brandy in my left hand. My right arm is covered in long vertical cuts, bleeding profusely. My back is facing towards the sunset, as I prepare to die. I take the pistol delicately in my right hand and place the barrel in the mouth. I squeeze the trigger gently, but the blast echoes about. My body now dangles by my neck over side of building. Maybe now I can find the peace I've been searching for since I lost my dearly beloved. I forgot to mention the tears streaming down my cheeks as I reminded myself of the brown haired teen. God how I hate the number 24.

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**Yeah, not the best...** but I'd like to see you do better at a Zabuza suicide story. If you have any questions about the story, just send 'em in. I'd love to answer any that you may have. Also, if you have any requests, pm me, or email me. My email is on my profile.


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